


Delirious

by Crazyapplekiss



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, Magic Overuse, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22529188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazyapplekiss/pseuds/Crazyapplekiss
Summary: It's him.
Relationships: Reynir Árnason/Onni Hotakainen
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Delirious

There is static in his ears.

There is smoke and fire and screaming all around him. It’s loud and wild and claustrophobic all at once which is strange in such a big forest. But - 

Reynir is looking right at him.

There is a pungent smell in the air and bones and sinews and black masses of horror strewn around him like a morbid oil painting. _It’s wild, it mad, it’s sick_ and there is red. So much red, he can’t tell where it begins or ends or where it comes from.

But he’s looking right at him.

The look on his face is so cross and frightened and – and he’s _here_. The same pale grey, and cheekbones and furs that Lalli has with a bow and arrow at his hip. He has so many questions, he’s not sure how he’ll voice them all. But he has to, even if it’s just one answer he'll get. Just one word. He has to. This is what the weeks of searching was leading up to.

The staves he manifested are shrinking and _oh norns_ – if Onni ever thinks of leaving his sight again Reynir feels like he’s going to lose it.

His hands are shaking, and his breathing is heavy as he glows still, all pent up with frustration and anger and fear all at once. Ninety years of the world’s dirty rotten secrets are still coming from the shadows and he feels small. Oh, so small in the middle of it.

His stave grows as he sees sharp teeth jumping at him, his short sword raised. The screeching is loud, and the mask digs into his skin. Someone shouts but he can’t for the life of him tell who it is. Not for the first time he’s forced to face his own mortality in the silent wilderness and his skin prickles with the same fear he felt like that night in the cabin, when the floorboards had caved and let the dark in.

He swings his knife and the stave grows, bright and strong in the dim light. Somewhere through the screeches and shouts and static he thinks he can hear someone singing.

-

Reynir wakes with a start.

The shadows on the walls creep up at him like trolls in the night and he jerks upright pulling himself from sleep. His body aches and it’s hazy and he can still hear the ringing in his ears.

His vision shifts from the trolls, to the lush fields of his dream world, to Onni and back again.

It takes a while to register the bodies around him – they are alive and breathing – but one stands out to him the most. He sits across from them in a corner, trying very hard to be smaller and not be seen. He stiffens when he notices Reynir shift and doesn’t acknowledge him.

He thinks he looks weary and stretched paper thin.

Reynir’s voice is terribly hoarse when he calls out to him and drags himself over. His body protests at the movements and the world tilts as he collapses in front of him, gripping at his clothes like a lifeline.

He makes it clear to him with the last of the energy he can muster, that he’s not going anywhere again. Not without him, or Lalli or anyone else.

_Never again_.

It’s a long time before he feels Onni move against him and start to feel less rigid. He’s silent and his hesitant hands gently brush his hair from his face and his lips barely brush his.

Reynir is halfway back into his fantasy of the large green fields and the gold washed wooden walls of the camp to properly see him but he manages to smile as he feels Onni continue to run his hand through his hair.

He thinks he can still hear him sing.

_It’s him, it’s him, it’s him –_

**Author's Note:**

> When you know you should sleep but you try writing a Reynir/Onni fic anyways :p


End file.
